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“Hey, Sanzo?”
Sanzo just grunts in response, shifting in the bed next to him. Sleep has already begun to tug at him despite his head just barely having hit the pillow; Goku knows how exhausting Sanzo finds traveling as it is, let alone traveling and then being thrust into a bothersome situation like they’ve found themselves in tonight. Goku frowns softly at the memory.
Hakkai’s old Jeep had popped a tire on the mountain road just shy of three quarters up the summit because of course it had. None of their research trips ever seemed like they could just go smoothly; something stupid always happened. It was almost like some kinda curse.
“What do you mean you forgot to load the spare? You had one simple job, how utterly fucking useless can you be?” Sanzo had snarled at Gojyo, who’d just curled his lip up at him around his cigarette in response.
“Yeah, except it wasn’t my one fuckin’ job, you goddamn prick! It was yours !” he’d yelled back, anger flaring when Sanzo simply looked away with the click of his tongue, pretending not to have heard him as he blew out his own large exhale of smoke.
Hakkai had stepped in then, pointing a finger toward the top of the mountain and the lights twinkling through the foliage there. A building, which meant people, which meant they could get help. It’d be at least a three hour hike on foot by the looks of it, though.
“At least the weather’s good,” Goku had mumbled.
However, within the first hour of their trek, the clouds had rolled in, bringing flashes of lightning, the roar of thunder and an unrelenting downpour along with them.
Cursed, seriously.
On the bright side, the homeowner had allowed them to take shelter for the night, offering a great meal, warm baths and clean, dry spare clothes. They’d only had two spare rooms and Hakkai had been too polite to request two more be prepared after all the trouble they’d already gone through to accommodate the four of them, but it was better than nothing, at least. The son, Hazel, had even offered to have a member of his staff escort them into the neighboring town so that they could gather the necessary supplies to fix Hakkai’s Jeep. It was real kind of him.
Sanzo peers over his shoulder at him, staring at him from under heavy eyelids, expectantly. Goku realizes then that he hadn’t asked his question.
“Oh— hey, do y’think they’ll mind if I go down to the kitchen n’ get somethin’ to snack on?” Goku asks, willing his stomach to quiet with mounting futility. The more he thinks back to the stock of fresh fruit he saw piled high on the countertop of the kitchen’s large island as he passed by on the way back from their meal earlier, the hungrier he gets. The peaches looked so good and plump, and — ugh, his stomach growls again and he grips at it gently, grimacing at it.
Sanzo just closes his eyes slowly as if annoyed with himself to have expected anything different. Honest to God. “Just don’t get into shit,” he mutters after a few moments, settling against the pillow again. “Turn the light off when you go.”
“‘Kay. I won’t be long, promise,” he says, getting up with care not to bother Sanzo too much and grabbing his still slightly damp hoodie off the back of the chair. He tugs it on over his head and turns back to the bed, tugging the covers back up to cover Sanzo’s side. He won’t sleep soundly if he’s cold, Goku thinks. “I’ll bring ya back an apple for the mornin’.”
He flicks off the light as Sanzo grumbles a ‘whatever,’ and quietly shuts the door behind him, shoving his hands into the large pocket of his sweatshirt as he tries to remember how to get back to the kitchen.
—
The Grouse family mansion is truly fucking huge. It’s like something out of a horror movie, really, he thinks — the hallways seem to go on for miles and it smells like old wood underneath the lingering smoky scent of at least two fireplaces, at least . The floorboards creak with every few steps and the quiet, rhythmic tapping of the rain against the windows just adds another creepy element to the dimly lit corridors.
The power goes out as he rounds the corner, the sudden pitch black punctuated by the loud cracking bang of the thunder resuming outside. Goku’s just glad that he made it most of the way before this point because he’s pretty sure that the place would have just swallowed him whole otherwise. Even still, the darkness is strangely intimidating and he can’t shake the feeling that suddenly, somewhere in the shadows of the hallway, he’s being watched. Thoughts of all the spooky shit he’s binged lately with Gojyo flood his mind again and he pushes out thoughts of a ghost. Stupid.
He catches his knuckles roughly against the side of the doorframe by mistake in his blind groping as his eyes struggle to adjust to the dark and hisses.
The kitchen, luckily, isn’t too complicated in its layout: the large island separates the floor plan into two clean halves: the large walk-in pantry and appliance set ups on one side and open space to wander and prep efficiently on the other.
Goku can’t help but feel like his every movement is being watched in here, too, much like he had in the hallway. He squints into the darkness, unable to really make out any shapes out of place. Better to just grab his snack and get the hell outta there. It’s already taken a while to get down here to begin with and if he wakes Sanzo up when he gets back, well...Goku would rather deal with a vengeful ghost than that flavor of Sanzo, if he’s being honest.
He grabs one of the peaches from the bowl he easily finds then, soft and giving slightly in his grip. He can smell it just the faintest; it is perfectly ripe and he can’t wait to inhale it when he gets back. Okay, no, he literally can’t wait — it’s fine to just take two, right? There are so many in the bowl and Hazel did say to help themselves; what’s his was theirs and blah, blah, blah.
Goku sees something whip by in his peripherals right as he goes to take his first bite and freezes mid-movement. Okay, what . Fuck this, seriously.
“Hello?” he asks, eyes flickering about the room.
There’s no response, save for the distant rumbling of another bang of thunder outside.
“I’ll kick your damn ass if that’s you, Gojyo,” he says, more unsteady than he’d hoped, damn. He wasn’t scared! He was just, uh, well...not scared!
A small shuffling sound comes from behind him and he whips his head around, eyes straining into the black hole of the pantry area where he’s certain it came from, fingers twitching around the peach in his hand. He shoves it into his sweatshirt for later. “I’m serious, dammit! Stop fuckin’ around n’ come out already!”
Something sharp sails passed his cheek then, leaving a sting in its wake and hits the cabinet next to his head with a thud. His eyes widen in surprise as the figure proceeds to descend upon him without warning and instinct takes over immediately as Goku shies just out of range from large hands as they go in for a restraining hold around him. Well, it’s definitely not Gojyo; the assailant’s reach isn’t nearly as long and this person has a different sort of fluidity to their movements.
“What the—“ he starts, ducking away from those hands again. “Hey— stop it!”
“I don’t take orders from thieves,” the figure says matter-of-factly and Goku knows he recognizes the voice, but he can’t quite place it in the heat of all the commotion.
He really doesn’t want to hurt the guy, but self defense is a necessity and so he grabs the cutting board off the counter just in time to block the fist aimed for his cheek. His attacker hisses sharply, knuckles cracking sharply against the wood. Goku takes the opportunity to slip some distance between the two of them, hooking his fingers into the handle of the cutting board to give himself a good grip in case he needs to use it again.
“I'm not a— woah!!” he starts, unable to get a chance to finish as he’s rushed again. The other man has grabbed what Goku realizes is probably another knife judging from the way it slices through the air toward him. Fuck, dude. All he wanted was some fruit . His stomach protests at the memory and he groans. Not the time .
“I saw you stuffing something into your pocket,” he says, a soft grunt catching in his throat as the knife is parried to the side as Goku blocks it once, twice, three times with the cutting board.
“Not a thief! Just,” he just barely misses hitting the man in the wrist with the cutting board as he shoves him off once more, “came down for somethin’ to eat!”
“All of the guests have retired for the evening and been accounted for,” he replies, swinging from a different angle this time, one that Goku didn’t expect.
“All of ‘em, ‘cept for me!” Goku clicks his tongue and winces as the knife manages to graze the exposed skin of his wrist and draw more blood. The wound is mostly superficial, but damn, it still stings! “And listen, I don’t wanna fight ya, but you’re really startin’ to piss me off!”
He grabs an apple from the counter and chucks it as hard as he can at the guy. He can hear the flesh catch with a hollow sort of sound and then tear immediately, an indication that, somehow, the knife has pierced it. In the barely reflected light of the stove’s clock, he can see the knife thrust out hardly two inches from his chest, the apple having lodged itself right snug to the blade. Goku blinks and then bursts into laughter, absolutely beside himself. What’re the fucking odds, seriously.
“Did you see that? Holy shit,” Goku wheezes, forgetting for a second where he is and what he’s in the middle of, until the man angrily rips the fruit from the tip of the blade and throws it to the ground.
“Take this seriously!” he spits, adjusting his stance slightly before moving in on him again.
Goku dodges swiftly, quickly choking back another bubble of laughter and reading the movements much easier now as he begins to memorize the patterns of his technique. “Alright, well, don’t say I didn’t warn ya!” He ducks and slides, kicking a foot out to hook at the guy’s ankle, just barely making contact enough to send him staggering slightly off balance.
He pivots, using his unoccupied hand to counter and clip Goku in the side when he rights himself and he stumbles back into the sharp edge of the counter. Damn, it’ll probably leave a nasty bruise, but truthfully, he’s starting to have fun now. It’s been a while since he’s been able to flex his muscles like this against someone who wasn’t Gojyo or, very rarely on occasion, Hakkai. It’s pretty exhilarating going toe-to-toe with someone who’s on his level like this. Even if it’s clearly because of a pretty big misunderstanding.
Goku’s adrenaline surges and finally peaks and he whips the refrigerator door open as the other man puts all his energy into one final lunge at him. The contents clink and jiggle with the hard force of the blunt contact of it cold clocking him.
The power finally flickers back on as the knife clatters out of his hand and to floor and Goku peers around the open door to finally get a good, solid look at the body crumpled down beside it now that he can see.
Oh shit , it’s the servant from earlier. Kougaiji? Yeah. He’s pretty sure; his name was really interesting and he’d made sure to repeat it over and over so he’d remember. That was the voice, though, that’s why he had recognized it — from the dinner. Oh, damn, not good. He took out some of the help. Goku groans nervously. Sanzo’s gonna be so pissed. Aw, no...
He kneels down beside him, pressing two fingers against his neck. He heaves a heavy sigh of relief when he feels his pulse strong beneath his fingertips. He didn’t kill him with the force. Thank you, Jesus.
Goku straightens up again, rummaging through the drawers for a first aid kit to patch up the cuts on his wrist and cheek and a ziplock bag. He patches himself up with a couple of bandaids and then fills the ziplock with some ice from the freezer, returning back to Kougaiji.
His eyes fly open as Goku presses the cold bag to the angry, inflamed skin of his forehead where he’d gotten intimate with the refrigerator door just moments before. It startles him a bit and Goku flinches, face all surprise before settling to a nervous smile.
“Good mornin’,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly as he pulls back, “sorry ‘bout your face.”
Kougaiji scowls, sitting up and turning his head away. The sudden movement sends a disorienting sharpness through him, but he hides it pretty well; Goku doesn’t seem to really notice, anyway. What he does notice, though, is that his face has flushed slightly. Maybe he’s embarrassed.
“I didn’t mean to hurt ya, but man, y’came at me so fast!” he says, filling the awkward silence. “And I warned y’too…”
Kougaiji clears his throat. “Ah, you’re one of the researchers...my apologies,” he says evenly, taking the makeshift ice pack from Goku’s offering hand and pressing it against his forehead again. “I’d gotten a slightly panicked report from one of the other servants that there was someone suspicious skulking around the kitchen corridors. We’ve been noticing some theft of our stock recently, so I took the account quite seriously.”
Oh, so that’s it. He knows how guilty his face probably looks, but he can’t dampen the expression. “Sorry ‘bout that...I just got kinda hungry, I didn’t mean t’set anybody off.”
Kougaiji holds up a hand, adjusting the position of the ice. “No. I should have recognized sooner that you were a guest. I don’t know what I was thinking...I failed in my duties tonight. Rest assured it won’t happen again.”
Goku can tell he’s trying to take all the responsibility. What a good dude. It’s not totally his fault, so Goku just shakes his head.
“Nah, it’s cool. You’re a real good fighter, though! It was damn stressful, but it was kinda fun, too. You’re like, super strong!” Goku grins wide at Kougaiji, eyes crinkling as he does, and Goku misses the look on his face akin to being blinded by one of the brightest lights he’s ever seen. “Can ya get up on your own?” he asks, offering a hand.
Kougaiji hesitates, but still takes it, letting Goku pull him to his feet easily and leans briefly into his hold. He averts his gaze quickly again when he realizes he’s let his fingers rest against Goku’s arm for longer than necessary. Goku notices, but doesn’t say much for once; instead, he takes in the glint of his purple eyes and the interesting birthmark curling up and across his cheek. He’s got real pretty features up close.
Something unreadable crosses Kougaiji’s face and then he coughs gently, breaking the delicate feeling growing in the air. He puts some distance between them and Goku awkwardly itches at his arm when he realizes how hard he’s been staring.
“I’ll be going...” he trails off and Goku realizes that he’d never even introduced himself at dinner and he doesn’t even know his name to refer to him.
“Goku! My name, um— it’s Goku!”
“Goku,” Kougaiji repeats and the sound of it from his lips makes Goku’s skin bristle in just such a way. “Good evening, then.”
“Yeah! Hope I see ya in the mornin’!” Ugh, lame, what. He can hear Gojyo’s shitty voice chiding him for having zero game.
Kougaiji bows his head politely as he excuses himself.
Goku smacks his cheeks roughly and shakes his head when the coast is clear and finally grabs the peach back out from his pocket. It’s bruised a bit from the scuffle, but still intact, thankfully.
He takes a bite as he grabs the apple he promised Sanzo and makes his way back to their room, huffing out an excited exhale.
Okay, well, maybe this place wasn’t totally cursed.